


Some Kind Of Reconnaissance

by Laurasauras, The_Shame_Basement



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Celebrities, F/M, Frottage, Grinding, Kissing, Semi-Public Sex, Yup I Sure Tagged Kissing And Here's Why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17725892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shame_Basement/pseuds/The_Shame_Basement
Summary: Up and coming director Dave Strider ends up at the same party as his nemesis, Jane Crocker. Not that she knows she's his nemesis. If only he could get her alone, maybe question her a bit. For the revolution, of course.(This fic's dialog was from a roleplay; Jane was played by Laurasauras, and Dave was played by The_Shame_Basement!)





	Some Kind Of Reconnaissance

The room was decadent in the way that only truly tasteless rich people can make a room decadent. The gala, supposedly gathered to raise money and awareness for a disease that had way too many syllables to be memorable, was in full swing. Dave Strider was new to this kind of scene, and while he had made his fortune assaulting aesthetics with even more tastelessness than the ballroom he now felt trapped in, he couldn't say he cared much for seeing it done unironically. 

He'd be fine being a reclusive Hollywood asshole, but his sister had pointed out that sometimes the most effective way to enact change was from the top and that he certainly wasn't going to do that from his bedroom. She'd then refused to go with him as his plus one, saying that would be just sad. What she'd meant was that she didn't want to go any more than he did.

Dave had actually had a moment where he was glad of this when he first walked in and nearly collided with a gorgeous woman in a red dress that just about made his eyes do the bug out of his face Looney Tunes styles. She had gracefully avoided him, smiled politely, and returned to her conversation.

And of course that was Jane Crocker. Dave's nemesis.

Not that she knew that she was. Not that anyone apart from Rose knew that Dave had serious concerns about the supposedly innocent baking company that had bought up a whole bunch of other companies. They owned like half the media. It was fucking concerning.

Concerning for a different reason was the effect that the Crocker heiress's legs were having on Dave. They were almost shockingly white against the red fabric of her dress, which had this tantalising slit up the side and a thick black zip that seemed to go all the way down. Her ass was sinfully round, begging to be grabbed. 

It occurred to Dave that he could in fact talk to her. He might get information out of her that would be useful for the rebellion. That was a pretty good reason to talk to her. 

He watched her for over an hour as she talked to what felt like every boring person at the gala. A lot of the old dudes here probably owned businesses or were shareholders at least. She was probably endearing herself to them with her boobs and her talking. What a snake.

Almost the second she was free, Dave sidled to her side with two fresh flutes of champagne. 

'Well hello there, Ms Crocker,' he said, holding one to her. 'Seems I've caught you in a rare moment alone. How are you enjoying the gala?'

Jane smiled a perfectly polite smile and accepted the glass.

'Mr Strider!' she said. Dave still wasn't quite used to the way that people at these kinds of events always knew who everyone was. 'It is a bit crowded, isn't it? Not that I don't adore the company! But yes, not much alone time.'

She was hot, that much was established, but now that he was up close Dave could appreciate that she was actually just an evil corporation shoved into a very expensive dress. Temporary madness was gone, he was ready to interrogate her. 

'Yeah,' Dave said, 'kinda hard to get stuff done wouldn't you say?'

Jane gave him a look of slight confusion, that small welcoming smile not shifting. 

'What kind of stuff do you need to be doing? I think your job tonight is to have fun!'

'I mean, yeah,' Dave said. She was being nice and it was throwing him a bit. He reminded himself that nice was just one of the weapons that corporate snakes used. 'Schmoozing and whatnot. The work never really stops, y'know?'

Jane stepped a little closer, subtly checking to see that the closest people were out of earshot before replying. She smelled faintly of vanilla. 

'You have _that_ right. I'd go so far as to call it relentless, just between you and I.'

Even with those heels, scary high and the same shade of Crocker red as her dress, she was short, maybe as tall as Dave's chin. He slouched slightly, responding to her display of secretiveness.

'Would you really,' he asked, his voice low. 'How do you mean. Is there something going on?'

Jane doesn't step back, but her smile and posture became open somehow, making Dave feel kinda sheepish about thinking they were about to exchange secrets or something.

'Nothing particularly noteworthy!' she said, cheery and light despite her closeness. 'The company released a new "Quadruple Chocolate Brownie In A Mug" product last week and it seems that the folks around here care about that!' She glanced around quickly as if to make sure that none of the people that cared were offended. 'Not that I _don't_ care! I had rather a lot to do with it, not to toot my own horn. But I've spoken about it a lot now. I didn’t realise that I could tire of talking about chocolate, but ...'

For a moment, she almost looked tired, but it was over so quickly that Dave almost thought he'd imagined it. 

'I don't suppose you could tell me about your films instead?'

'Oh. I mean sure.' Dave laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable talking about his movies (they really shouldn't be called films), it was more that he thought he was getting Jane to talk, not the other way around. 

'Not sure how much there is to say. Been working on a few new projects here and there but mainly it's just expanding the brand and all. I'm sure you know what I mean.'

Jane's eyes twinkled as she smiled. They were this disarming shade of light blue and her glasses seemed to make them look bigger. Dave had to remind himself that she'd probably been grown in a lab or something, the perfect heiress to the business. There wasn't anything about her that was unappealing, he couldn't trust that.

'Do I ever!' she said. 'I just escaped—I mean left! Left that gentleman over there. He was quite miffed about my choice to go back to the spoon logo, but honestly, that fork was rubbish. I don't know what the board was thinking!'

'Wait. So that was you?'

Jane smiled proudly.

'I'm not just the trophy heiress they send to events, you know!'

Dave struggled with politeness for a moment before curiosity won over. 

'But they didn't ... Well ... I take it they didn't consult you before making the logo change.'

Jane's smile turned wry. There was a bit of steel in her, an intensity that made Dave sure that she was right about not just being a trophy heiress.

'I was 16 at the time. My father thought I should stay "a normal child" as long as possible, bless him. I think I rather shocked them when I came to work on my 18th birthday, ready to start a fire if I had to!'

She laughed, a cute little "hoo hoo" kind of giggle. For some reason this didn't make Dave any less certain that she was absolutely capable of crimes. Arson, maybe. Was this flirting? Flirting was where people were being cute but scary at the same time, right?

'Wow. Yeah. I don't doubt it.'

On her birthday, like she was absolutely serious about her inheritance. Damn. Dave looked her up and down, grateful for his shades for hiding his assessment. 

'And, ah, if you don't mind my asking, how old are you now?'

'Mr Strider, so forward!' she said. For a moment, Dave thought she wouldn't tell him. 'I'm 22, though, not quite so old that I can take offence.'

'Goddamn,' Dave said before he could stop himself. He hurried to cover. 'I mean, I'm 23 so I know the feeling of people trying to check whether you're of legal drinking age all the time and stuff. But no, I was just curious.' He managed to stop speaking before he rambled about other reasons that someone might ask how old someone was. 

'You know, you don't have to win all the Academy Awards before 25. Leave some for the other kids to play with.'

Dave laughed humourlessly.

'Believe me, I'm trying. This BS was not my choice.' Whoops. This wasn't BS to Jane, she was part of it. At some point in his life he would no doubt develop the ability to not say every damn thing that came into his head. 'But I mean I'm not really in a place to complain either. What about you, did you always want to do this?'

Jane looked at Dave as if he asked something a lot more interesting than he had. He had a flash of worry that she was somehow figuring him out. She was the last person he wanted to be getting an accurate reading of him. 

'You know, I can honestly say I did,' she said. 'I have some friends in similar situations, wealthy families and pressure, all the rest of it. I know it's quite rare to want it.'

At least Dave didn't stand out on the reluctance front.

'But I did! I always had "Big Plans" for the business. It's exciting to be in a place where you can make change. Not that a baking company has unlimited influence. But I'm working on that.'

Jane winked, as if she was joking. Dave laughed, as if he thought it was funny. 

'Well that's fantastic. Good on you, dude.' Dave took a moment to be glad that his voice was generally pretty toneless. It made faking sincerity easier. 'What kind of stuff do you have in mind? I assume you've got your sights set on larger prospects than mug brownies. Not that those aren't admirable as all get out to begin with.'

'Quadruple chocolate, Mr Strider. They're better than sex.'

Jane blushed and put her hand over her mouth.

'I may have forgotten I wasn't talking to one of my friends! Please take it as a compliment!'

Dave almost cracked a grin before he caught himself.

'No, no, it's fine. If nothing else it’s a great marketing strategy.'

'I'll put it on the box.'

'Hell, I'd be tempted to do a tie in with SBAHJ if you did. But for real though. What kind of stuff have you got in the works? I'm curious.'

She smiled, and despite her tiny stature, she looked predatory. 

'I wouldn't say no to getting my gnarled claws into your franchise, I'll be honest. I'm not sure I can pronounce the acronym as a word like that, I'll have to practice!'

Dave struggled to repress another smile. Not enough people appreciated that.

'Yeah, it takes some doing. I consider it a prerequisite for branding conversations.'

'I'll perfect it before I come after you officially, then!' She hesitated for a moment. 'Outside of yourself ... the board might get cross if I say anything that can't be found via the news, so I may have to be careful with my words. Not quite compatible with the champagne here, but I'll manage!'

She didn't seem the kind to give a damn what the board said. Dave decided to push, just a little more.

'Why wouldn't the board be happy with you?'

'Well, if I tell you for instance that we're in talks with a technology company to see if we can't absorb them into our owned brands and then the papers catch wind and the brand spooks ... I'm sure you're a trustworthy man. But I'd hate to get either of us in trouble.'

'No, yeah, that's fair.' Dave didn't miss that he was included in the "trouble". 'I'll avoid that kind of thing.'

Jane turned slightly so that they were almost standing next to each other and smiled up at Dave. 

'Shall we change the subject? I'm curious as to what you think about the art here.'

'Oh.' There had to be something he could say. 'It's uh ...' He was an artist. He knew things about art. 'Looks very ...' It wasn't his fault the art was so shit. He just needed to say something that didn't mean anything. 'Representational.'

'Representational?'

'Well yeah, I mean. Like that wonky dude over there with the purple all over his face like the world’s most unfortunate Welch's juice commercial. That's definitely a dude y'know? No two ways about it.'

Jane seemed to be struggling with keeping her expression politely interested. She looked like she wanted to laugh.

'What do you think the artist is trying to say?' she asked, her voice somehow steady despite the mischief in her eyes. Dave was encouraged to be a bit more honest than he should be.

'Well clearly he found something about this uh ... Is that a beard or a goiter?'

Jane failed to answer or make eye contact as she wrestled with her smile.

'Well, anyway.'

Something about his delivery made her laugh, that same giggle that is just a little bit contagious. Dave cracked a small grin in return. Making fun of shit was absolutely the way to his heart.

'I mean he obviously found something compelling about this gentleman.'

Jane nodded, a forced serious expression back in place. It was the least convincing serious face Dave had ever seen. God, it was cute.

'I'm forced to assume the colours were artistic license because otherwise he's painting this dude from a goddamn hospital bed for jaundice and I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Like I'm not sure the thing with his eyes is working for me. Gives me kind of an American Psycho vibe TBH. But maybe that's just the look of love you give to your boyfriend painter who's going out of his way to make you look like a multi million dollar doofus on a big canvas y'know?'

Dave peeked another look at Jane. She was trying to cover her giggles with her hands, completely ineffectively.

'So, to answer your question. They're definitely gay and I'm at least eighty percent sure this painting was an act of malice.'

'I believe you have to buy it now!' Jane said, voice shaking with the effort of holding in laughter.

'Honestly I'm not sure where I'd even put it. Except right above my bed and I'm not sure the ladies and gents would appreciate that if you catch my drift.'

Jane lost control of her laughter, letting out proper breathless giggles instead of the kind you were supposed to do at events.

'That is a vivid mental image!' she said.

'Isn't it just? I think I have to buy it now actually. That clinched it for me.'

'It did?'

Dave crossed his arms over his chest and gestured at the painting in the way he'd seen serious art people do before.

'Well, it _was_ just a freaky impressionist painting of a weird looking dude before. But now it's a litmus test. If they can’t handle me at my Van Gogh on LSD then they don't deserve me at my Lisa Frank.'

'It's important to have standards,' Jane said seriously.

'My thoughts exactly.'

Dave hesitated for a moment, wondering if he dared go for it. But thinking and holding back impulses had never been his strong point.

'And I take it yours is like ... checking out their thoughts on quadruple chocolate brownies vis a vis the bedroom.'

'A lack of appropriate enthusiasm about chocolate may be a deal breaker.'

'Well please don't misinterpret my ironic stoicism for lack of enthusiasm then. Because I am pumped as hell about the prospect of a four to one chocolate to brownie ratio.'

Whoops. At some point there, Dave had gone from hinting gently to crashing an implication truck right through the front window of Jane's house. Actually, the first bit hadn't been that subtle either. Fuck it. If Jane had wanted to, she could have made a polite excuse to stop talking to him ages ago. She hadn't talked to anyone else this long tonight.

'Well, that's one item off the checklist,' she said.

Dave didn't let any reaction show on his face. 

'Baller. What are the other ones?'

'If you get me another glass of champagne, I may just tell you.'

He arched an eyebrow above the rim of his shades, but turned on his heel and walked off. He came back a few seconds later with two flutes of champagne, and offered her one. 

'How gentlemanly!' she said, smiling. 'To horrifying paintings of very ill gay men?'

Jane held the glass toast-ward, so Dave clinked his delicately with hers.

'I'll drink to that.'

They both drank, and the moment of silence between them made Dave conscious of the undeniable rhythm they'd had up until then.

'Not to ruin the moment with sincerity ...' Jane said, looking at her glass instead of Dave, almost like she was shy. 'But this is easily the most enjoyable conversation I've had this evening.'

'Aw,' Dave said. 'Aw jeez really?' Sincerity was not his strong suit, and he was starting to feel like he had somehow taken advantage of her. 'Damn. That's uh ... that's a shame.' God, he was awkward. 'I mean. Your board of advisers really needs to step up their game if this is the best you've gotten. Maybe you should absorb a memeologist into your conglomerate next. 'Cause that's basically the level of conversational expertise I'm operating on here.'

'I'll take it into consideration,' she said, looking far too delighted by his discomfort. 'You don't happen to have any recommendations for good memesters?'

The fact that she was ready to go back to banter made Dave infinitely more comfortable. 

'Hmm,' he said, considering. 'I mean not memes per se but if you're looking for japes I do know a guy.'

'I like japes!'

'Hell yeah.'

'Quips, even.'

'Goddamn. What about a spicy round of tomfoolery?'

'Even the odd antic.'

'Oh, absolutely. Antics up the wazoo.'

Dave realised that coming up with synonyms was not an endless font of amusement and stopped.

'But yeah, his name's John, I can put you guys in touch. He's a great guy, he's one of my best friends actually.'

'I'd like that,' Jane said. She actually sounded sincere. 'Do I know of him? Is he one of this lot?'

'Oh. No, not at all. He's a stand-up comedian. Or trying to be at least. I'm sure he could benefit from a sponsorship.'

'I wonder how long I could get away with having a comedian on payroll,' Jane mused. 'Like a court jester! Why do we big wigs not have court jesters anymore?'

Dave could see, rationally, that Jane was joking. That much of what he'd been doing with Jane for the last half hour was joking. Still. He fucking hated rich people.

'Wow. I mean.' He should not finish this thought. He should just let her say whatever the fuck she wanted.

'Probably because it's a signifier of an archaic and outdated feudalistic institution where the proletariat is functionally a class of indentured slaves whose labour and its attendant profits are funnelled exclusively to the pockets and subsequently the banquet tables and other various whims of the over-enfranchised elite.'

Dave's brain caught up with his mouth a few seconds late, as per usual. He tried to feel regret. He couldn't.

'Or something like that lol.'

Yeah, because saying "lol" out loud made up for it. Jane looked surprised at his outburst for a moment, but then, bizarrely, pleased.

'Oh yes, today's elite are very different, aren't they? I may need to go back and watch those movies of yours again. There's more to you than is obvious, isn't there?'

Dave laughed awkwardly.

'I mean, I don't know about that.' He sipped at his champagne. Of course the one person he didn't need to be examining his movies would go and do that. Of course he would practically dare her to. 'I'm still just a kid practically. Or at least I still feel like one. I'm just trying to make cool movies, y'know?'

'If you don't mind my asking, how have you indulged with your new fortune? Ironically awful portraiture aside.'

He should just stop talking to her before he said something else stupid. Flirting aside, and there had definitely been flirting above the average level for Dave Strider conversations, this was risky. Still, he answered her.

'I won't lie that's been a significant chunk of it. But honestly I haven't gotten too fancy yet.'

Could she empathise with what it was like to suddenly be able to live for the first time in his life? Should he try and make her? He settled for just saying what he told reporters.

'I got a house finally. That was exciting. And a bunch of sweet new duds and whatnot so I don't look like an ass at awards ceremonies. Helped fund my sisters book publication.'

'Anything just for you? Just for fun?'

She sounded like she was prompting for something more, but he had no idea what. Was this some kind of test?

'Hmm ... I'm thinking about starting a public art project. Not quite solid on that one though. Maybe a museum or something idk. What about you? What kind of stuff do you do with the fistfuls of money you're given?'

She smiled as if this was the correct question to ask. 

'Well ... quite a lot. Do you mind if we adjourn to the balcony? I wouldn't want to scandalise accidental eavesdroppers.'

Dave laughed softly under his breath. What, did she go over the recommended calorie limit for the day sometimes? He could bite at an obvious ploy to get him alone, though.

'No, I'm fine with that. Let's bounce.'

Jane held out her arm so that she could be escorted and Dave smiled to himself. Right, establish physical contact and go to a private-ish place. Classy broad. He took her arm gently and walked her out, holding the door open for her and closing it behind them, shutting out the noise from the party. He leaned against the balcony, close to where she was standing.

'So ... Scandalise away, Miss Crocker.'

Jane sipped at her champagne, looking evilly at Dave. 

'There's this trend I've noticed with Nouveau riche. When I ask about fun, you talk about projects. When you're born into it, you have a _feel_ for luxury.'

She paused and took another sip of her champagne. She looked more relaxed out here, away from the eyes of everyone else. She licked her lips in a very distracting way. They were just as red as her dress and her shoes and hadn’t even smudged on her glass. Dave was tempted to ask her how she managed that.

'I pay a young man with sinfully clever hands to live in the apartment below mine and be on call, any time of the day and night, to give me massages.'

Dave's eyebrows raised somewhat; he prayed they weren't visible over his shades.

'Unfortunately he doesn't like chocolate, but I forgive a lot in him.'

'Yeah. Wow. Okay. Is he ... Is that literally all he does for you?'

Jane smiled as if she knew exactly what Dave was asking and then dodged the question like a god damn politician.

'Well, I admit my friends take advantage of him as well. My friend Roxy is constantly on her computer, she swears by his hand massages.'

Dave swallowed and lost nerve to ask again. 

'What does Roxy do for a living?'

'She tells me she's a hacker, but that doesn't seem right. It's not that she lies, she just ... likes a good story. She may not have a job, her mother is very wealthy. I know she has a lot of followers online, but I honestly don't know if that translates into money or not.'

'Depends on the platform probably. And how she's using it.' Dave really couldn't care less about her friend. He wanted to know more about this masseuse. 'But yeah,' he said, because that was a trusted segue. 'And you all feel, uh ... You feel alright about doing this.'

Jane looked at him as if the thought of ethics hadn't even occurred to her. 

'Most people have a price, I don't mind paying it for interesting things.'

Dave would have said something if he had any idea what he was supposed to say to that.

'Like, your painting. That's funny, believe me when I say I find that funny. But I think it would be funnier to commission the artist to paint my least favourite chairman and give it to him for Christmas.'

'Right. Yeah.'

He glanced out at the skyline, sipping his champagne.

'Do you have any other staff like that? Or is downstairs guy just special.'

'For a month I had living furniture,' Jane said, as if that wasn't a fucking shocking thing to say.

'I. What. You.' Dave paused while his brain processed this information. 'Like all of it?'

'Most of it. Couldn't figure out how to make the kitchen doable, but the lounge and bedrooms were fun.'

She still sounded like she was describing something mundane. Dave's mind still hadn't completely recovered from the potentially sexy masseuse dude.

'How was that even ... Was it comfortable?'

'One of the women who was part of my bed had the most plush breasts I've ever encountered. They were magical pillows, really.'

Jane smiled at Dave innocently. Dave hesitated, wondering if this was some kind of game rich assholes played all the time that he was on the outside of. He decided that he had to just respond like he was always gonna respond to it. She was talking to him, not a generational rich boy. She could be offended if she was offended.

'Miss Crocker, can I ask you something kind of untoward?' Dave asked, as if being polite now might somehow save him from the fact that there was no "kind of" about the untoward question he wanted to ask. 

'I may not answer, but yes.'

'Was it ... a sex thing?'

'It didn't start off that way. It's difficult to resist, though. I'm not quite sure how to describe it.'

Jane finished off her glass of champagne and set it down on the balcony at a safe distance from her feet. Dave made sure that he only looked at her ass while she was bent over, keeping his eyes carefully on her face as she straightened up. He was wearing his shades, but still. Girls had a sense for that shit. 

'They were people, and attractive people, I knew that. But the longer they were there, being my furniture, never speaking, rarely moving in my sight ... It dehumanised them.

'If you'd asked me prior to that, I wouldn't have found that appealing at all, but ... They were there, it was written into their contract that they were willing for it to develop sexually, and being around people in such mundane and extended circumstances invites a kind of intimacy. So, to answer your question: yes. It was a sex thing.'

She hadn't looked Dave in the eyes while she talked up until that last sentence. When she did, there was a kind of challenge with the eye contact. Like it was her own litmus test.

Dave stared back from behind his shades, hiding any kind of reaction perfectly.

'So why'd you stop?'

'I started to make sure I was always "presentable" for them. I suppose I was at the start, too, but it got worse. I didn't want to look unappealing in my own home.' She smiled wryly. 'They're permanently on the Christmas card list, though. No hard feelings.'

'Right. Of course. So you caught feelings, essentially.'

She tapped on her hip thoughtfully.

'Yes, I suppose they did start being people again. At the beginning, I could come home from the office, wipe off my makeup and throw myself onto a couch made of people who only moved in order to make me more comfortable. I wasn't sure what they were going to do, if they were going to do anything at all, which is where it started getting ... sexy. But I also didn't care. At the end, I'd come home from work, freshen my makeup up instead of take it off, and play a game with my restraint, see how long it took before I gave in.'

'Ah. So not the emotional kind of feelings then.'

She doesn't seem fazed by that assessment. 

'No. There was respect. Is that a feeling?'

Jesus. He couldn't even tell if she was being ironic.

'Sure,' he said.

'They were extremely professional.'

'I'm sure. Do you respect downstairs masseuse guy?'

Jane smiled.

'I actually like him! He tells me wonderful stories. He's always been a person to me.'

'Is that a sex thing too?'

Dave asked before he could help it, but he met Jane's eyes anyway.

'No, he's extremely gay. I'm sometimes disappointed by that, but it's nice to have a simple relationship.'

'Are you satisfied by that relationship?'

'I'm satisfied by all my relationships.'

She looked challengingly at him again.

'What's the point in wasting time on something that isn't good?'

They held eye contact for a moment. Dave broke it by casually balancing his empty glass on the railing.

'Fair enough. So you're getting your needs met.'

'Oh, I wouldn't say that.' Her eyes darted to his lips. 'That's my fault, though.'

'How so?'

Jane touched her fingers to her neck, tracing a pattern over her pale skin.

'I'm sure you've noticed that I'm a rather controlling person. If I need something, I get it. So, when I neglect my needs, it's only because I've neglected them. Prioritisation is hard.'

'Ain't that the truth.'

She smiles wryly.

'Lately relaxing with a massage has been all I've had the energy for. It's nice to be out again, though.'

'Is it? I'm glad.'

He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing away, then back at her.

'Can I ask you somethin' in confidence?'

'Yes.'

'What do you want from me?'

Jane moved her hand to the railing of the balcony, leaning closer to Dave.

'You approached me, Mr Strider. I could hardly set the terms now.'

'I wouldn't be offended if you did. And I'm curious to hear, regardless.'

She looked back into the party, gauging their privacy again.

'There are two ways I think this could go. I could try to control you and you might let me. I'd get a certain thrill from you giving yourself to me. Or, I could try and control you and you might take control for yourself. Take out those frustrations at institutionalised rich assholes out on the richest woman under 30 in the world. I'd fight you on that one, but I'm a lady of words, not physical strength. You'd probably win, no matter what your aim was.'

He took a half-step closer, leaning against the railing.

'Would that thrill you too?'

She swallowed visibly and looked down.

'Yes,' she whispered.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

'Well. Seems to me like you ought to try controlling me and see what happens, Miss Jane.'

She took a breath to steady herself. She took the final step closer with a practised kind of confidence. They were almost touching, the heat of their bodies mingling, faces only inches apart.

'Kiss me,' Jane said, her voice low but commanding.

Dave leaned in, neither abruptly nor slowly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and pressed their mouths together with an almost inaudible hum. She kept still, as if he was holding her back with his hand, but moved her lips against his gently.

A slow exhale left him and his hand slid around to the back of her neck to guide her closer. He thumbed at the spot just behind her jaw, then eased back and eyed her over the top of his shades.

'How was that?' he murmured.

'Good, Strider.' She tapped a point on her jaw with her fingertip. 'Now here.'

He ducked his head without hesitation and pressed a soft, lingering kiss where she indicated. He felt his stubble brush against her chin.

'You weren't kidding about enjoying control, huh?'

She smiled wickedly before tapping another spot, this time on her neck.

'Absolutely not.'

He breathed out a low chuckle and kissed her throat, reaching around to cup the back of her neck. His teeth just barely grazed her skin.

'Can't say as I mind.'

'How far do you think I could make you go on this balcony?' Jane asked.

He didn't react overtly, but his fingertips pressed lightly in against her neck in what clearly wasn't a voluntary motion.

'I mean ... my brand's built on publicity stunts and bullshit. You're the one trying to be respectable.'

She shivered slightly. His breath on her neck tickled her.

'You must have corrupted me, then.'

She tapped lower, almost on her collarbone.

He bowed his head without hesitation and kissed her there. He nibbled gently at her collarbone and then trailed kisses featherlight up the line of her pulse.

She sighed, her free hand moving to his waist to steady herself. His hand found her hip and he grinned against her throat. He moved to suck lightly just under her jaw.

'Oh fuck,' she breathed, gripping his waist a bit desperately, inching closer so that their bodies were pressed together.

He laughed–more of an exhale than a proper sound—and bit lightly down, then sucked sharply, hard enough to leave at least a small bruise. His arms hugged her midsection.

She pulled back, but only enough so that she could free her neck. She cupped his jaw in her palms before kissing him desperately, pulling him close to her.

He let out a tiny groan and then kissed her back for all he was worth, breathing hard and clutching her close to his chest and running his hands over her shoulders, her sides; trailing teasing fingertips over the sensitive skin at the base of her jaw and nipping at her mouth.  
She pulled at his shirt, untucking it from his pants with quick tugs so that she could get at his skin. She moaned into his mouth once she made contact, tracing her fingertips over his ribs.

He gasped without meaning to, and arched to press into her hand. His glasses were a little askew. He didn't particularly care. 

His fingertips trailed over her back, toying with the edge of the dress and toying with the zip as he kissed her deep and hungry.

She whimpered and dipped her fingers into the hem of his pants, tugging him closer even though there wasn't a closer position. She parted her legs enough for him to step in between them and leaned into his thigh. She held onto his belt, not as if she was going to take it off, just holding it so that he couldn't escape.

He was breathing hard by this point, and was very much erect. He kissed at the corner of her mouth, then pulled back to look her in the eye.

'You're not afraid of getting seen like this?'

'I really should be.' She kissed him again. 'If you see my sense of propriety somewhere, please let me know.'

Dave hummed in agreement in between kisses. 

'It's hard to see with the shades on.' More kisses, hands all over each other. 'But I'll keep an eye out.'

'Better keep close, just in case.'

'Yeah. God.' He wasn't going anywhere. 'You taste like vanilla. I don't know why but it's really gettin' to me.'

Jane pulled back slightly to give him a slightly embarrassed smile.

'That might be part of the brand. It's on theme. Not that it's usually for tasting!' Okay, quite embarrassed now. 'I just ... use vanilla as perfume. It's supposed to be homey.'

He ducked his head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, hugging her closer.

'Well it's something alright.'

'You're far too good at that,' she whispered. 

He kissed her again. He could feel her heart racing under his lips.

'What d'you think I could do to you just from that,' he asked. He licked one of the bruises he'd sucked into her skin. 'How far gone could I get you, Miss Jane.'

She shivered and licked her lips.

'Just ... kissing my neck?'

'Mmhmm. Giving you hickeys.'

' _Fuck_. I don't know ...'

She was leaning her head to the side, seemingly without realising it, keeping her neck open for him. Dave's hand slid up to grip her hair, and he sucked another mark into the base of her throat.

'Let's find out then. 'Cause I really like you like this.'

She groaned and gripped his shoulder as if her knees were weak. Seeing her come undone, all that talk about control and she was so proper and ... Dave needed to know how far he could push her. 

'Please,' she breathed.

'Please what, Miss Jane,' he murmured. He eased down the zipper of her dress an inch or two. 'If you're not careful I'll keep going. Wouldn't want everyone at this party to see the Crocker heiress slick and trembling and on the verge of orgasm at the hands of some cad.'

She moaned, her thighs squeezing his and leaning into the hand holding her hair.

'Too late, Dave, please keep going.'

His free hand gripped her hip and guided her in to grind. He angled her head back and bit her shoulder, then sucked sharply and kissed the spot afterwards. His voice was a low rumble when he spoke.

'Everyone's gonna know. Your board members are gonna see you all up in my arms with hickeys all over your neck.'

He kissed her again, licking the thrum of her pulse.

'And you're not gonna be able to stop even then. Are you, Jane?'

'No, can't stop. Don't stop!' She was panting, barely stopping herself from grinding on his thigh, completely out of control. 'Want more. _Fuck_ , Dave, what are you doing to me?'

He grinned against the skin of her throat, pulling at her hair just the slightest bit to bare her neck a little more. The hand on her hip guided her firmly in, and his thigh pressed up between her legs.

'Making you the pretty little mindless plaything you've been pretending not to be this whole time.'

She wasn’t stopping herself from grinding against him, not since he'd started it. She was wet enough for Dave to feel it through their clothes and clearly didn't or couldn't care anymore. She whimpered and gripped him harder.

He met her movements and sucked marks into the skin of her throat, laving his tongue over the rising bruises and bracing her with a hand on her ass.

'There we go. That's a good girl c'mon. Show everyone how bad you've been wanting this. Just relax and let go for me.'

'Oh my god, I can't just ...'

She broke off, her words transforming into a moan. She was visibly close. She was going to come just from this and it was because of Dave. She was grinding helplessly against him, clearly out of control.

She gasped her next words, lying pointlessly and obviously.

'I'm not going to ...'

'Not going to what, babe?'

He kissed her neck, almost chaste, and unzipped her dress another inch or two. His thigh rocked up to help facilitate her grinding.

'You're doing so well it's just a lil more. C'mon darlin'. Make a mess of yourself for me.'

She was rubbing up against his dick with almost every desperate rock of her hips. She buried her face against Dave's shoulder, pressing her forehead into him even as she kept her neck open, unable to ask for more with words and relying on her body language. He held her close, taking as much of her weight off her shaking legs as he could and cradled her head against his collarbone. He leaned down to bite her shoulder and suck roughly, working her neck over with absolutely no regard for anyone seeing. After a few moments, he unzipped her dress the rest of the way and pressed his thigh firmly up between hers.

'Fuck, Dave, I'm ...'

She moaned and tensed around him, clenching him close as her orgasm sparked through her. She gasped for breath as her body relaxed again, still holding onto him, still hiding her face in his chest.

He hugged her close, petting her hair and her bare back as her breathing calmed and her body stopped shaking. 

He glanced over to the inside of the building. Several people looked hastily away.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he rubbed her shoulder and hugged her a little tighter.

'How was that?' he murmured.

Jane looked up at him, eyes a little hazy and hair sticking to her forehead. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, the fabric not clinging so neatly to her breasts now that Dave had unzipped it. She lifted her face to his and he bent down to kiss her gently. 

‘I’m going to need your number,’ she said. ‘And your forgiveness, for leaving you to brave them alone.’

‘What,’ Dave said.

‘Zip me up?’

She stepped backwards from him and turned. He could see a small blue bow on the back of what was definitely a thong peeking out above the zipper and not being able to see the rest of that was going to drive him insane. 

He pulled the zip up as she combed her fingers through her hair. She still looked thoroughly debauched, which wasn’t helping the situation in his pants one bit. 

She pulled her heels off, one after the other, and god damn, she barely came up to his nips, what a tiny woman. She gave him a sunny smile, worthy of the cover of a magazine if it wasn’t for everything else about the situation, and threw her shoes over the balcony before pushing herself up and over the railing.

‘Fuck, Jane, what are you doing?’ Dave said. 

‘I’m leaving while I can still buy my dignity back,’ she said. ‘This was fun, though! We should talk. Soon!’ 

She blew him a kiss before stepping off the balcony. Dave leaned over just in time to see her land in a roll, pick up her shoes, and casually walk through the gardens and to a waiting car. 

Fuck. 

Rich people.


End file.
